


Silent Thanks

by Tarlan



Series: Silent World [15]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-19
Updated: 2003-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wagon Train Part 2</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent Thanks

He felt free... liberated in mind and spirit after weeks of abject misery. Vin could see a reflection of his feelings shining from Charlotte's eyes, could hear the ripples of laughter as he playfully hunted her through the trees and shrubs.

"Vin. Vin, where are you?... Vin?... Vin, quit teasing me, now."

He jumped out, catching hold of her slim waist and delighted in her shriek and the girlish giggles that followed. She snatched at his hat, holding away from him teasingly until he took her lips in a kiss. Her body melted against his, surrendering to his demands, and together they sank to the dusty ground. His hands tugged at her chemise, swiftly teasing open the buttons to reveal the creamy mounds of her heaving breasts. He bit into one, sucking on the warm flesh and raising a fiery welt of possession while his fingers busied themselves in divesting her of this last shackle of civilization. Her bodice opened, spilling her breasts, and he plundered the offering, tongue teasing across one taut nipple before suckling like a babe. He feasted upon her, enjoying her soft moans of pleasure as his tongue flicked over and over the sensitive nipple. Her hands coiled into his hair, wrapping his locks around them and he gave into her insistent tugs, abandoning her nipple to reverently kiss her quivering belly. His hand pushed up her skirts, rubbing against the last layer of cotton separating his fingers from her welcoming body. He could feel her warm juices seeping through the thin cotton as she writhed to his touch.

Vin pulled back abruptly, both hands reaching beneath her skirts to pull away the flimsy material. He leaned back down beneath her bunched up skirts to kiss the gentle swell of her warm belly, but the soft, unmarred flesh, and the rounded curve of her hips filled him with distant discord. He refused to give into the memory of a hard, well-muscled belly, and of lean, sharp hips, concentrating instead on the warm body writhing beneath him. His tongue slid through the warm triangle of chestnut curls, easing below to taste her. She squirmed and he grasped her ass, feeling the smooth, soft curves in his roughened palms, and he ignored the rising discord as his fingers itched for firmer flesh, and for the gentle swell of well-formed, muscular ass cheeks that fit his palms to perfection.

He kissed and bit at her marshmallow-soft thighs, then buried his face into her soft, wet folds, lapping at the juices of passion flowing freely as her hands tightened in his hair once more. The nagging inside him became stronger as his senses sought the familiar scent, taste and sounds of another. The heady scent of her musk filled the air but it wasn't his scent; her high-pitched moans filled his ears when all he wanted was his soft, guttural cries of passion; and her sweetness filled his mouth when what he craved was his bittersweet juices.

Chris.

His mind called out as he lapped at the tiny bud, drawing it between his teeth and flicking it with his tongue. Her slim hips began to buck, her body trembling, fists tightening around the locks of his hair as her climax overtook her, filling his mouth with her hot juices. As she slumped back in completion, Vin pulled open his pants and moved up her body, plunging his shaft deep inside her and thrust with hard, bruising strokes. He felt her legs wrap around him, heard her cries as he brought her to a second shattering climax, felt her inner muscles grip him but not tightly enough. He wanted the heat of a tighter channel, and he cried out in dismay rather than joy as he emptied his seed into her, feeling strangely bereft at the loss as if it had been stolen from him, leaving him cold and empty.

They dozed in each other's arms with her frail body pressed up against his, hearing her protest as he tried to hold her as tightly as he would hold... Vin forced contentment onto his face. This was where his future lay now -- with Charlotte -- and not with... not with Chris. Vin choked back a sob and held Charlotte closer, ignoring her protest this time.

****

Chris looked up as he heard the heavy splashing of a horse plowing through the gentle river that flowed through the land the settlers had claimed. He watched and waited, softly answering JD's question.

"Looks like Richmond."

"Been out there all night?"

"Afraid so."

Chris sighed, blaming himself for what had happened. He should have known this was no light dalliance on the part of either party; no quick affair for a few moments of sweaty satisfaction. Perhaps if he had ignored Vin's demand to stay out of it then... Then what? He thought angrily. He had no right to tell Vin what to do, least not any more. He'd given up that right on the day he shut Vin out of his life. He saw the anger and despair chasing each other across the man's face as Richmond drew to a halt close by. He knew that feeling intimately; had felt it settle over him like a unwanted blanket on a hot night but it wouldn't lift no matter how hard he kicked at it. He wanted Vin with every fiber of his being; wanted to hold and be held in those strong yet gentle arms, and he hated the fact that it was Charlotte Richmond who had what he coveted so badly.

Then why did you let him go? Why did you push him away?

He refused to answer his own angry questions except with derision and a sense of self-sacrifice, but both seemed even more hollow to him now.

"Any sign of them?"

He had to ask even though he knew the answer already. Vin was too good at covering his tracks to make it easy for a greenhorn like Richmond to follow them. He'd spent too many years tracking men and then hiding from bounty hunters to lay an easy trail. He saw anger win the fight for possession on Richmond's face but he couldn't find it in his heart to blame Vin for any of this.

"She's gone. That bastard took my wife."

"Well, I get the feeling it wasn't a kidnapping."

He sneered his response as he thought of the beautiful married woman who had ensnared his lover... his ex-lover. He refuse to allow Richmond to imply that Vin had done all the taking, knowing Vin well enough to be assured that he'd never have forced her to go with him. She was no child. She had gone with him willingly, knowing what and whom she was leaving behind, and fully aware of the consequences of her actions.

"He took her. He's a dead man. Come on."

Chris stared after the man as he pushed on into the camp, suddenly realizing why he disliked the man so much. In Richmond, he saw a reflection of himself, pushing away friends and loved ones because of a past that could not be relived or changed. Mary had told him about the Richmond's child, wanting him to understand the tragedy that had brought the Richmonds to this place. Until now, though, he had discarded it, concentrating instead on a man who refused to show even the slightest amount of decency or respect to the men Chris had come to think of as an extended family. With sudden clarity, he understood himself far better; understood what drove both Richmond and himself, and he felt the bitterness twist into his gut like a knife.

"Oh, boy."

He followed Richmond, finding some empathy inside him for the man as he realized how each of them had driven away the person they cared for most in this world because of the ghosts of the past. Chris took a seat by one of the wagons and watched as Katie and Billy played catch, feeling some the anxieties leave him as they laughed and giggled with a child's innocence. He could see Gerard and Mary talking, and then embracing, and he felt a surge of bitterness fill him once more. He missed the easiness of Vin's embrace when they were alone together, and he envied Gerard and Mary for being able to show their feelings so openly. He saw them sharing sweet endearments and, once again, he missed the gravel-soft voice that would whisper such delightful things into his ear as Vin played his silent games of passion.

Was he playing those same games with Charlotte Richmond? Was he whispering those teasing words into her ear with that soft, dust-roughened voice? Chris ached inside as he thought of never being held by Vin again; of never feeling the hard shaft possess him in body while his spirit soared beside Vin's.

Buck came over, distracting him from his dark thoughts, and he smiled at the attempt to lighten his mood.

"Look at those two. They're like brother and sister." Buck leaned down slightly. "So, Chris, tell me, how much longer you reckon we're gonna be stuck here?"

"Getting itchy feet, Buck?"

"Oh, yeah. This place is peaceful as a prayer meeting... and I miss the smell of beer."

"I'll bet you do."

Chris did not need to look up at his oldest friend to see behind the lie. He knew the warm twinkle had gone from the blue eyes, and that they were filled, instead, with concern for a friend who was hurting. He was still amazed that Buck had more than come to terms with his -- former -- relationship with Vin, and that he had actually tried to hold it together when everything started to fall apart. But that was Buck Wilmington, as loyal and compassionate a friend as any man could want. He was, probably, the only person here who could see beneath the poker face Chris played almost to perfection... and anyone else who got an inkling that all was not right with him would most likely put it down to the attentions Mary Travis was paying to Gerard Whitman. How little did they know him? But then, that had always been his intention; to keep his private business to himself.

For the first time, Chris truly regretted Vin leaving, even though he had been the one to push him away. Until now he had seen no alternative, wanting to give Vin the chance of a life outside of the shadows in which they were forced to conduct their affair. After all, what point was there in Vin taking a risk with a man who could not even meet his physical needs. As he was now, he was no better than a woman... worse, in fact, because at least a woman -- Charlotte -- would be able to give Vin ample proof of how good he made her feel. What could he do except lie there like one of those mannequins he once saw in a store window in Oklahoma City?

It occurred to him that Buck had been raised in a whorehouse, and that he might have some knowledge about the dysfunction Chris was experiencing. He almost looked up at Buck, debating on whether he ought to seek the man's advice but then his pride took over once more and he turned back to watch the children playing; smiling wryly as they scrabbled after the ball Buck had thrown.

"Well, let's give it till morning. I still don't think we've seen the last Dicky O'Shea."

"All right."

Chris looked up at the unexpected agreement, and realized Buck was responding to more than just a request to stay one more night for the sake of the settlers. He saw the look in the blue eyes that told him Buck was planning on getting him well and truly drunk, and would then drag out of him all his problems. He sighed gently, knowing it might just work this time but then Billy took his attention when the boy knelt down near the center of the circle of wagons with Katie and scraped at the dusty ground. Billy turned back to Chris, all excited and confused at the same time.

"Hey Chris, what's this wire?"

Chris sat upright, staring at the thick wire glinting in the sunlight -- and then he realized what he was seeing.

"Get away from there!"

He jumped to his feet and raced towards the small boy, grabbing hold of him as the first of the explosions went off behind them. Chris pulled the child close to his body, wrapping his broader frame around Billy to protect him from the flying spikes of splintered wood and rock as more explosions boomed through the camp. Some how he managed to roll beneath one of the wagons, squashing the boy beneath him and keeping both their heads down as another explosion kicked dust over them. He looked back up and saw frightened settlers running in all directions, and he yelled out above the booming sound of another explosion.

"Stay inside the wagons!"

Chris gasped as the shock wave threw Mrs. Johnson several feet across the camp, and then another explosion sent another of the settlers flying but there was nothing he could do. This was not an enemy he could fight with a gun, and he lay on the ground feeling more powerless than ever as the last of the explosions faded until all was silence except for the cries of the injured and dying. Chris could hear Mary's frightened voice calling frantically for her son and he let go of the boy, hardly aware of Buck thrusting Katie into her equally frantic father's arms. Chris barely spared time to watch Billy race into his mother's arms before he dropped down beside Mrs. Johnson, turning her over to rest her head against his chest.

"Nathan, when you can! I need help!"

He held her tightly, looking down into the face of the unconscious woman. She wasn't slim and pretty and young but she and her husband had been good to him and to the others. She would bake them fresh bread and cakes, sharing what little she and her husband had with the strangers who had come along to help protect them and the other settlers. He forced back the pain that made his eyes sting with unshed tears. He was supposed to have protected her. It wasn't fair. None of this was fair. Nathan dropped down beside him and Chris relinquished his hold to the woman's devastated husband, only to feel a shudder of relief as Nathan checked her over and stated she was going to be fine before he moved off to tend to those who were more seriously injured.

Chris climbed to his feet and slapped some of the dust and debris from his long, black duster.

"Everyone stay inside the wagons."

He knew there was nowhere safe, and that dynamite beneath one of the wagons could kill the occupants just as surely. However, it was still safer than being out in the open among the deadly splinters of wood and other shrapnel, or bullets if O'Shea's men were waiting on the ridge to pick off anyone attempting to flee the camp.

"Cowards! Why don't you show yourselves and fight like men?!"

O'Shea's Irish lilt filled the air as he made his demand for the deeds once more. "You're between a rock and a hard place, Lads. Hand over that deed and save yourselves."

Chris glanced towards JD as the kid fired up towards the ridge, understanding his anger and frustration. He felt the same way; had been transported back more than a decade to the horrific battles of the war. He thought he'd never see the like again; would never have to watch another man -- or woman -- blown apart by explosions, though this time it was dynamite rather than cannon fire. He shook his head and gave silent thanks that Vin had not been here after all, knowing his lover was somewhere far away from all this bloodshed and mayhem.

Slowly, the camp quietened as the people gathered to decide the best course of action, and Chris watched and listened as each said their piece. He read the uneasiness in the fear-filled voice of Jack's widow, but he could understand her concern. With her husband dead from an earlier attack, she had nothing but their wagon and the unborn child she carried. She had no land -- not legally -- for the deeds would have been signed in her husband's name and would not automatically fall to his kin, so she would have to rely upon the goodwill of the others to grant her a piece of the land. Still, she had a greater chance of gaining charity from the people she had lived and eaten with for the past two months than she would from a town full of strangers in the hope that they might help her find the means to support herself and her child. However, after this latest attack, her doubts of living to see even a small piece of land must have outweighed her fear of going back.

"We're no match for dynamite. We should leave while we can."

Gerard came across as strong-minded as ever, still determined not to be driven from the land on which he had placed all his future hopes. Without it he had nothing, and Chris realized he might even lose Mary too.

"You can pull out if you want to, but this is our land. And I intend to stay right here."

His words were harsh but Chris knew they were not intended to hurt the recently widowed and thereby destitute woman. He doubted that Gerard was mean enough to throw her loss into her face by reminding her that she had no land without the charity of the others. Jack's widow seemed to think so too, for she plowed on.

"If we give the man the deed, he'll let us go free."

Chris hated to dash her hopes -- and those of others who stood trembling and afraid around them, awaiting the outcome of the meeting.

"Don't count on it. O'Shea won't want to leave any witnesses. Hanging on to that deed could be the only thing that keeps you alive."

He saw realization spread through the settlers, and he wished he could offer them greater hope or better protection as the settlers agreed to stay and fight for their future and their land. Buck sidled up beside him as Gerard went to relay their answer to Dicky O'Shea.

"We sit here, they'll blow us all to hell. Let's take the fight to them."

Chris quickly pondered over Buck's words but realized the flaw immediately. They would need to know how well defended O'Shea's camp was if they were to take the fight to him, and that would mean sending out two or three of the remaining six protectors. Chris was reluctant to split their forces, knowing O'Shea might take advantage of the shell-shocked settlers to launch another attack, but he also knew that the settlers could not handle many more of these cowardly dynamite attacks. He took a deep breath and hoped he was making the right decision.

"All right. Sneak out of here and find out what we're up against."

Chris watched as Buck, JD and Josiah went to saddle up their horses. He rubbed his grit-filled eyes and sighed audibly, knowing it was going to be another long and lonely day but at least he didn't have to worry about Vin being hurt any more. He barked out a small laugh. If Dicky O'Shea had his way then he wouldn't be around much longer to worry about anything, and the thought sent a chill racing through him as he realized how dead he already felt inside since losing Vin.

Chris held his rifle loosely in his hand and walked, head bowed, through the camp. If, some how, he made it out of this, then he knew it would be time to move on again. It would be time to bury another past and hope that the ghosts of this one would not join forces with the other ghosts that haunted him.

****

Vin rode on, feeling Charlotte's small hands wrapped around his waist and he recalled a single time when he and Chris had doubled up on his horse. At first he tried to shy away from the memory, not wanting to dwell on the man who had so callously thrown him out of his life, but the ache inside grew so he let the memory take hold.

They had been out on patrol, choosing to ride together with the expectation of finding a shady spot to do a little loving away from prying eyes. Of course Vin already knew of an idea place to stop, gradually leading them southwards towards a bend in the small river where he had spotted a cave a few days earlier. It had been formed by years of spring floodwaters biting into the embankment, but it was large enough and sturdy enough for two men to almost stand upright... and deep enough to lie in comfort. Inside it had been cool, and they had spread their bedrolls out on the soft ground and covered them with their blankets for even more comfort.

Chris had been more than eager that day, quickly dropping his gun belt and pants, stripping out of the rest of his clothing and crawling bare-assed over the blankets. He yelped in surprise when Vin took advantage of the raised ass, grabbing him by the hips and dragging him back against his already hard shaft.

Lord, it had felt so good, rubbing his aching shaft between the firm ass cheeks, feeling the sensitive tip press against the small hidden muscle. His fingers had scrabbled for the tin of grease he kept handy, scooping out a huge dollop before pressing them inside the hot body. His fingers stroked deep, and all the while his shaft bumped and ground against his own hand as he continued to thrust along the crevice between those smooth, firm cheeks, adding to his torment. His other hand moved beneath their close-pressed bodies, stroking Chris's hard shaft, dragging guttural moans of pleasure as Chris pushed back with every stroke.

"Can't wait no more, Chris. Got to do it."

"Then do it. Do it now."

Vin pulled his fingers out, positioned his shaft at the relaxed entrance and plunged hard and fast into the open body; hearing a cry of pleasure and pain at his forceful possession. He rode Chris hard, thrusting deep, wishing he could push his whole body inside his lover. His hand dropped from Chris's hard and slippery shaft; too desperate to fulfill his own need as he grabbed the lean hips and pounded harder and harder into that gorgeous ass. He dragged Chris back, reveling in the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, in the soft cries of pain and pleasure intermingled and in his own uninhibited words as he told Chris how fucking beautiful he was, how tight and hot and...

In the aftermath, he'd felt real selfish when Chris refused to turn around so Vin could give him some relief, and then he saw the splatters of spent seed on the blanket beneath them.

Vin laughed quietly in remembrance, recalling how he had gently pushed Chris to one side, kissing him soundly when he saw the chagrined expression on his lover's face. That had been one of the good times, when Chris had shot his load without him having laid a hand upon him.

Maybe he'd been a little too enthusiastic that day because Chris had trouble sitting still in the saddle on the ride back, and he lost his seat completely when his horse stepped into a small hollow in the ground. Thankfully, neither horse nor rider broke any bones but Chris had spent the rest of the ride home doubled up behind him... just like Charlotte was now.

Strange, but he could still feel Chris's larger hands holding onto him, could still feel the heat of Chris's broader chest pressed up against his back. The thought warmed him in other ways and he felt a moment of guilt as he thought about the woman who was, unknowingly, trying to take Chris's place in his life.

Suddenly, he didn't want to feel her pressed up behind him so he reined to a halt and helped her drop down to the ground before he jumped down too. From where he stood they had a good view of where they had come from and he sat down on a fallen tree trunk and pulled out his spyglass. He didn't object when Charlotte sat in front of him and nestled back against his chest, viciously ignoring the pang of despair as he recalled sitting with Chris like this one time. Again he let the memory flow, refusing to bottle them up into living ghosts that would haunt him.

They had made love on a blanket of moss and he could still feel the dull ache from where Chris had taken him. It was a good ache, acting as a physical sign of the passion he felt for the man now seated on the fallen trunk in front of him. He wrapped his arms around the broad chest, dipping his head to place soft nips and kisses on the nape of Chris's neck. The hair was so soft there; feathery, silken and so golden. Too often they just rutted quickly, grabbing at small opportunities whenever presented to them. But this time they had spent almost a whole day alone in each other's company on the way back from delivering a prisoner to Ridge City for the Judge. Knowing they'd be camping out one more night made it better still as it meant they didn't need to rush. There would be time for slow strokes and gentle caresses, for easy companionship and a night spent curled up against each other. They would awaken to even more of the gentle lovemaking, bringing each other to fulfillment and reaffirming that silent connection that had sprung into life the first time they looked into each other's eyes.

Damn, but he wanted Chris... but he couldn't have Chris. Not any more. He did have Charlotte and he'd made a commitment to her. He wouldn't go back on that... and yet he found himself uttering words to try and persuade her against him.

"You ought to know, my bag's always packed. I ain't one for settling down."

"Think that's gonna scare me off?"

"And I ain't no farmer."

"I know who you are, Mr. Wild and Woolly."

She seemed so sure of him -- and of herself -- and yet he had seen the way her eyes glowed when she talked of plowing fields and taming land. Hadn't that been her dream? Would she be happy to settle for less with him? He meant what he had said. He had no intention of ever settling down in one place, let alone taking up a plow or herding sheep or cows... and then he saw through that lie. He would have stayed with Chris. He would have settled into that small shack that he'd helped Chris build, and he would have helped him to rebuild following the destruction by the Nichols brothers.

"Something else I ain't told you about me yet."

"Say what you want. My mind's made up about you."

"There's a price on my head... for a murder I didn't do."

She was silent for a heartbeat and he heard a quiver in her voice when she answered even though she'd tried to sound strong and forceful.

"Well, then you're innocent, which is a lot more than can be said for me." She half-turned, trying to look up at him. "Vin, you are the kindest, boldest, most exciting man I've ever known, and I will go to Mexico or Brazil or anywhere you want to run."

He smiled down at her, pulling her close and relishing her words. It had seemed such a long time since he heard anyone say they'd go with him wherever he wanted to run. The last person to say it had been... Vin cut off that thought, knowing Chris had never promised to go with him anywhere though he always believed he would follow if ever he decided to move on.

"I been to Mexico."

"Then Brazil it is."

Brazil. Maybe, by then, he would have managed to leave the pain of the past behind him and be content to have only Charlotte in his thoughts and in his arms. He held her tighter, giving silent thanks that he'd been granted someone like Charlotte to help ease his pain.

****

Buck, JD and Josiah came riding back into the camp and he waited as the excited kid told him what they'd seen.

"Well, we got them matched man for man, but they got plenty of guns -- Remingtons and Winchesters alike."

Chris thought about the men he'd seen in the town on the day the Judge decided for the settlers. They'd taken out a couple of those, which would leave the number close to the figure JD stated. However, it was Buck that advocated caution.

"And dynamite. We head straight at them, they're gonna pick us off like ducks on a pond."

"If I was, O'Shea, I'd hit now while we were down. I don't know what he's waiting for."

JD was right about that. Chris had half-expected O'Shea and his men to swoop down on them while they were still reeling from the damage and fear caused by those explosions. He had kept a silent watch throughout the day in case O'Shea noticed that three of the hired protectors were missing, not wanting O'Shea to get the drop on them like they did the night Jack died. He thought about the trap laid for them; one that had taken two lives and injured several others including the kind Mrs. Johnson. Their powderman was a real cold-blooded piece of work if he was willing to kill women and kids. Chris hoped they would be able to catch that bastard, knowing how easy it would be for the coward to slip away when he figured he had done enough dirty work for O'Shea.

Chris walked towards Gerard who had taken over the decision making since Richmond lost first his wife and then his interest in the people around him. He had to know if he could rely on the Settlers to back them up, or if they had to do this all alone.

"We figure out a way in there... your people willing to fight with us?"

"I don't know. They're still reeling from the last attack."

Mary stepped forward, still holding her son in her arms as if she was frightened of letting Billy go. He could see the determination on her face and knew what she was going to say before she opened her mouth.

"But they didn't come all this way to quit."

He recalled once telling her to go back to wherever she came from, that the town wasn't fit for a woman. It wasn't true any more. Between the Seven of them they had managed to bring a semblance of civilization to the town, making it a safer place for women and kids to walk the streets unmolested and without fear for their lives. Safe enough for the Judge to send all seven of them with this wagon train while he kept order in the town alone. It made Chris wonder how much longer they would continue to be the law in the town before the Judge decided their brand of protection was no longer needed, and hired another marshal like the unfortunate Bryce.

Her fiery words caught hold of Gerard and the menfolk standing around him, and he spoke for them as he agreed to be ready whenever they were needed. Chris looked at the men, knowing they were all farmers or city folk with a dream of getting away from bad soil or the crowding of the city to the rich loam and clean air on the frontier. He'd been a farmer's son back in Indiana so he knew the hardship of such a life though he couldn't be sure they'd find it any easier out here. Still, all the land in Indiana had been snapped up decades ago, and the land rush on Oklahoma was a distant memory. This land was all that remained. This was the final edge of the American frontier standing almost on top of the border with Mexico along a tributary of the Rio Grande.

He glanced at the few men and decided that he would make sure he placed them so they would take as few risks as possible, in the hope of keeping them all alive.

"All right, that's it, then."

****

Vin heard Charlotte calling his name and he placed the two rabbits he'd snared beside the unlit fire. He followed the sound of her voice, slightly puzzled as to why she'd gone out of the camp looking for him. He'd told her that he was off to rustle up something for tonight's supper -- and there was plenty of water in the camp so she hadn't needed to go off by herself to the river. As he followed the easy trail she had cut through the shrubs, trees and long grasses, he heard her cry out. Several more screams followed and Vin pulled the mare's leg from its holster as he crashed through the dense undergrowth. As he stepped out onto the sandy river bank he saw the three men holding Charlotte down, their hands tugging at her blouse, and forcing up her skirt and petticoats as they tried to tear off her undergarments. He struck out at one with a vicious kick under the jaw, and the other with the stock of his mare's leg, knocking both flying before readying the sawed-off shotgun and planting it firmly in the third man's face. From the corner of his eye he saw Charlotte knock out a man he thought he'd laid out cold already.

"Whoa. Whoa. There's 20 gunslingers just over that hill. You fire that thing and that shot will surely bring them running."

"Who you riding for?"

Vin raised the mare's leg, menacingly, as he grated out his question, giving the man his cold-killer stare, and the man backed away further, only too eager to talk if it bought him his life.

"Calls himself Dicky O'Shea. We're the reinforcements to help keep them sodbusters off his land."

"That's my husband's land."

"Then what are you doing with him?"

"Mind your own... business!"

Vin slammed the butt into the man's face, knocking him unconscious. "You all right?"

"I'm fine."

A chill of fear raced through him as the man's words took hold of him. He thought of Chris and his friends standing up to 20 more hired guns, knowing they would be taken by surprise, that they'd be out-gunned and probably slaughtered along with the settlers. A terrible vision swept through him, seeing his lover fall beneath a hail of bullets; the green eyes staring open and lifeless; his rich blood soaking into the dusty earth beneath him.

"We got to go back."

"I can't go back. I'm scared." Charlotte ran to him, wrapping her arms around him and Vin found he was reluctant to hold her. "I don't know if I'll have the strength to leave again."

Forcefully, he pushed her to arm's length, his eyes beseeching her to understand that he could not leave them, that he could not leave Chris to die alone.

"We got to go warn them." He tugged on her arm, drawing her after him as he rushed back to where he had left the horse. "Come on."

Where before they had ridden at a canter, this time he forced his horse onward at a gallop, aware of how dangerous it was especially with two of them tiring out the animal. But he needed to get back to the camp -- back to Chris. He needed to reach there before the 20 guns that would be hard on their heels. It was only now that he was truly grateful for the circuitous route he'd taken to throw Richmond off their trail for, although they had been riding for over a day, they were only fifteen miles from where the wagons had set up camp by the river. Even allowing some time for his horse to take a walking rest, they could be back there within a couple of hours.

They rode in silence, and only the horse's laboring breath from the added weight, and the feel of those small hands gripping him tightly, told him she was still there. He sighed with relief when he recognized the terrain leading up to the river, knowing they would be back at the camp in minutes, until fear grabbed at his heart once more.

What if he was too late? What if... what if Chris was already dead?

He broke through the undergrowth on the far side of the river and saw the wagon train ahead, shocked for a moment when he saw the still smoldering tops of several wagons. Another sight caught his eye, and he gave silent thanks to Josiah's deity and several Indian spirits as the familiar, lean and tall, dark-clad figure stood away from the black gelding that was saddled up and ready to ride.

Chris looked up at him with an unreadable emotion flitting across his face as Vin lowered Charlotte to the ground before jumping down beside her.

"You back for good?"

Vin tried to capture the elusive emotion that had flitted through Chris's eyes, part of him wanting to put a name to it but another part afraid of being hurt once more. All he knew was that there was, for the first time in weeks, something in his eyes other than the blank, cold indifference that had sent him running. Had he been wrong to give up on them? His eyes flicked to Charlotte, and her trusting expression chased away the momentary doubts, strengthening his resolve to do what had to be done here and then move on with her as they had planned

"Come to warn you. O'Shea's hired 20 new guns. They're right on our heels."

Buck asked the new question that Vin could see reflected in Chris's eyes. "We got time to take out O'Shea and his men before they get here?"

"Doubt it."

He saw Chris's eyes narrow in confusion, reading the thoughts as easily as he would read his own. Why had he come back when the odds were now even further against them? After all these weeks looking into a stony expression, now he could see the emotions sweeping across Chris's face--confusion, fear, relief and now the first tiny flickers of anger--but Vin didn't understand why, and he wasn't certain if he wanted to understand. Before either of them was forced to deal with the emotions churning beneath the surface, they heard the distinctive report of a shotgun being fired.

"You got five seconds to get off my land."

The others reacted instantly, guns in hand and aimed at the source of the loaded weapon drawn against one of them. By unspoken agreement, no one moved and no one spoke as they deferred to their accepted leader. Chris moved forward slowly, eyes never leaving Richmond's face, his gun never wavering from where he'd send a bullet through the man's heart if Richmond so much as twitched while he held that shotgun aimed at Vin. Vin stayed still, knowing he had to let Chris take control of this situation. Chris's left hand reached out across the shotgun barrel, gently but firmly pushing down on the barrel. The cold mask was back in place as Chris kept his gun trained on Charlotte's bitterly angry husband, his soft words belying the threat within.

"Drop the gun."

"This don't concern you, Larabee."

And then it was all over as Josiah wrapped his bear-like arms around the man and held Richmond pinned, the shotgun no longer a threat. Vin could hear Josiah's calming words as he gently handled the man.

"All right, now, fella. We're all in this together."

From the look he could see in the man's defeated eyes and posture, Vin knew that the danger was over. Despite the hardness of his words and the deliberateness of his actions, Richmond was no cold-blooded killer -- not because he wouldn't do it if circumstances were different, but because he couldn't kill like that. He would kill to protect his family, and to defend his land from the likes of Dicky O'Shea and his hired guns, but he couldn't murder a man in cold blood.

"Let him go."

Vin gave his request to Josiah as he looked deep into Richmond's eyes, accepting the anger and resentment and realizing that they were aimed as much at Richmond himself as at him: the man who had taken his wife. He felt sadness deep into the pit of his stomach as he realized that Richmond still loved his wife no matter his coldness towards her. However, once more, they all had to push aside their own needs and problems to concentrate on the bigger one that could be riding at them with guns blazing at any moment.

"Mister, this ain't the time. If you want to keep these people alive, we got work to do."

Vin spared another glance at Charlotte as Mary led her away, hoping they all lived long enough to ride away from this great mess that had become their lives. Chris gave him a look that was shadowed with confusion and concern, nodding imperceptibly, and Vin could only answer with a nod of his own, unsure what words were needed between them. He half listened as Chris asked Josiah to get as much gunpowder as possible, and then he watched as Chris turned away, more confused than ever by the strange look in Chris's eyes.

There was a time when he could have deciphered that look with ease, but now he couldn't trust their silent connection, couldn't afford to slip back into their silent world and discover that all that was left there was the silence. It already hurt too much.

Vin tied his horse up with the others and walked through the camp, ignoring the whispers from the settlers who knew who he was and what he had done. For his own part he didn't care, but he knew Charlotte would have to face those same slights, accusing stares and whispers, and he silently wished he hadn't been forced to put her through that.

****

An hour had passed since Vin's return and Chris had opted to take watch on the river when the initial fear of an imminent attack had passed. He climbed onto the trunk of a fallen tree, wondering how long it had lain there. Had it been a victim of the spring thaw that could see the river rising as much as ten feet... undermining its roots and felling the giant? Or had some other catastrophe brought it down? A heavy winter, or a too dry summer?

Vin would know.

Chris sighed and shifted the rifle on his lap. Why did everything always have to come back to Vin Tanner? He thought back to the shock of seeing Vin riding back into the camp after he believed him gone for good, hating the weakness inside him that had allowed his mask of indifference to slip. Vin had noticed and Chris had seen his confusion followed swiftly by his resolve when he glanced back at Charlotte Richmond, and Chris found a fresh reason to hate himself. He had pushed Vin away for Vin's own good, stoically ignoring the pain of seeing Vin with another, but letting down his guard like that, and revealing how much he wanted Vin, would only hurt both of them all over again. He had to be stronger for Vin's sake if not for his own.

Just as he had with Sarah and Adam, Chris forced away the memories of the happy times he had shared with Vin, afraid that they would weaken his resolve still further... but they crept up on him unawares. Flashes of memories assailed him, from the secret, shy smile that promised future pleasures, to the mischievous, sparkling blue eyes that reveled in the silent games they played when no one else could see. His body tingled in remembrance of the strong fingers that would bring him to such heights of passion. But as he concentrated on that intimate part of him that could give back equal pleasure to his lover, the darker memories of loss crashed down on him, extinguishing the elusive flicker of passion and leaving him more frustrated and despondent than ever.

Chris closed his eyes for a moment, wanting to force away the bitterness and the taste of bile in his mouth, and when he opened them he saw Mary Travis's slim figure moving towards him. He dredged up a smile as she drew close, gratefully accepting the coffee she had brought out to him from the camp.

"Thank you."

He sipped at the hot drink, eyelashes flickering as another unwanted memory surged within him. The coffee was strong and thick, brewed until the spoon stood up on its own... just the way Vin made it. It was as thick as mud and too strong for his personal taste, but that just seemed to make it perfect in some distorted way. Her words distracted him from the twisted path his mind was following and he could not help but be happy that someone -- that Mary -- had gained something good from all this suffering as she told him of her intention to marry Gerard. Still, he had to ask, wanting to be certain that all of the trials, all of the pain and death had been worth it in some small measure to someone.

"Do you love him?"

His smile faltered as she sighed and looked away along the river, and he moved his head until he could capture her eyes once more.

"A little bit?"

She sighed again, unable to answer in words and refusing to meet his eye, and he felt the darkness of despair reach out to extinguish yet another fragile flame that had flared briefly. As she sank onto the log beside him he felt a bubble of hysteria rise, trapped in his throat as he thought of all the people around him who were scrabbling to make the most of second best.

He freely admitted to himself that he wanted only Vin, and in his heart he was convinced that Vin felt the same for him. But what of Charlotte and Will Richmond? Was the love they had once held for each other truly dead, or was it just buried beneath the bitter memories of their loss? Certainly, Richmond's actions seemed driven by more than just bruised pride in losing his wife to another man.

And who do you love, Mary? Who holds your heart?

Certainly, it was not Gerard, and if he was vain then he might have pictured himself as the object of her true affection. Maybe, in the beginning, that might have been the case but it wasn't he who had finally captured her heart and, long ago, they had slipped into an easy friendship instead.

"I have to go back now."

"Okay."

He handed her the drained cup and watched as she moved back towards the camp with slow, almost dragging steps. He knew his words had struck her far deeper than he had intended, causing her to question her decision.

"What's love got to do with anything anyway? Highly overrated."

He snorted softly as Ezra's fancy words popped into his head but then the smile fell away.

"That's where you're wrong, Ezra. Love is everything, or it ought to be."

****

Vin sat on the bar of the wagon, spyglass in hand as he gazed out beyond the camp hating the way his eye was constantly drawn to the lonely figure seated on a fallen tree by the river. He had seen Mary walk out to Chris, carrying coffee, and he had seen the small exchange and the gentle smile on his lover's face as...

"Dammit, he ain't my lover no more," he rebuked himself softly, hating the way his own body betrayed him every time he so much as thought of Chris. He saw Chris rise from the dead tree to follow Mary back to the camp; his bowed head and slow steps making Vin ache to gather him into his arms and kiss away the despair he could read in the lonely figure... but he couldn't. Chris was lost to him. Vin snapped his head sideways to look along the ridge instead, wishing something would happen to distract him from thoughts of Chris Larabee, and had his wish granted as Charlotte came up beside him.

"What do you see out there?"

She sat down in front of him, leaning back against his chest, no longer caring what anyone would say if they saw her being so intimate with a man who was not her husband.

"Quiet so far." He felt a momentary pang of guilt as he placed the spyglass in front of her, holding it in a far different direction to the one he had spent most of his time looking towards before she came up to him. "Here, have a look. What do you see?"

"Hmm. I see... Brazil." She half-turned in his arms. "But it's fading. I don't know how much longer I can see it."

His own fear of being alone again, of being deserted once more, overwhelmed him, and he held onto her tightly.

"Don't quit on me yet, Charlotte. We'll get there."

The attack came suddenly, almost catching Vin unawares but he pushed Charlotte to safety and crawled underneath the closest wagon, keeping to the plan they had decided upon earlier. He heard Chris shouting from close by, telling everyone to get down and take cover. At first he couldn't see him but then he spotted the dark-clad figure crouching to the right of him behind one of the thick wooden barriers they had built in preparation for the expected attack.

"Hold your fire! First shot's Vin and Buck's! Hold it! Get down."

He saw Richmond drop down beside Chris, saw Chris yell at the man briefly as he continued to hold everyone back from firing. The bullets were whizzing into the camp by now but still Chris held them back from retaliation, wanting O'Shea's men to reach the gunpowder trap they had set up earlier.

"Buck! Fire!"

Horses and men screamed as Buck's shot detonated the gunpowder beneath them, giving back some of the horror that had been forced upon the settlers. Two riders breached the circle of wagons but JD dealt with one while Josiah felled the other with the butt of his rifle. On Vin's side of the camp, the riders had almost reached the second trap and he fired a shot from his mare's leg that sent rock and dust exploding upwards beneath the attacking forces. O'Shea's men began to retreat and Vin could only look on in horror as Chris leaped out from behind cover, standing alone and vulnerable as he emptied his gun into the mass of O'Shea's men while their bullets kicked up the dust around him.

Stupid! Stupid!

Richmond made the same suicidal leap out after Chris, crumpling over as a bullet tore through his side and, with his mouth dry from fear, Vin saw the gunman level his rifle at Chris's defenseless figure. He hadn't even realized that he had crawled out from underneath the wagon as soon as Chris made his foolhardy move, and Vin didn't stop to think about the shot as every sense flared into life. His eyes became sharper, and even his skin tingled as it calculated the strength of the slight breeze raising the almost invisible hairs on the back of his hand. He let loose a bullet and gave silent thanks as it found its mark, discovering that he could breathe again now that Chris was safe once more.

Chris dropped to the dusty ground beside Richmond, yelling out for Nathan, and Vin heard Richmond's pain-filled voice cry out a single name, over and over: Charlotte. He felt a tremor of foreboding fill him as she raced across to drop down beside her husband, seeing the torment and fear on her pretty face as she held him close.

****

Early the next morning Gerard stepped out in front of the circle of wagons calling for O'Shea. In one hand he waved a white sheet and in the other he held up the coveted deeds to the land. With heavy hearts the wagon train slowly moved out, gradually forming a single line that passed by the jubilant O'Shea. Chris could only shake his head as Gerard cast aside the sheet and climbed onto his wagon, watching as Gerard slapped the reins down unnecessarily hard to get the team moving, but Chris could understand his anger. The air was thick with bitter disappointment and defeat, and with heads hung low, the settlers either glared at O'Shea from beneath their hats or cast their eyes aside in disgust. Josiah was one of the few to stare O'Shea down as he passed... along with Mary Travis.

For his own part, Chris didn't bother to waste either sight or breath on the man. He had already sized up his enemy and his mind was further down the track as he thought of all the places where O'Shea might lay waiting in ambush. Still, he waited until the last wagon had rolled past before cantering along the length of the train, assessing each of the wagons with a critical eye to decide which would cause them trouble on the journey back to the town. Some how they had managed to get all the wagons moving, though plenty showed damage from the gunpowder and dynamite blasts. Weaknesses would show up when they reached rockier terrain, through he had no intention of letting of them go back through the pass this time. It had been hell on them when they weren't hurting and now, with the injured settlers and damaged wagons, it would be foolish to take such a gamble.

They stopped when the sun was at its highest point, giving both people and horses time to rest up during the hottest part of the day. There was little talking and no laughter, and even the children sat quietly as the heavy weight of pain and loss that filled the air around them suffocated their young exuberance.

Chris found his eyes drifting to Vin often, unable to fight the wash of memories that flowed over him at even the simplest of movements or gestures he made. He saw the strong fingers splayed out against the side of a wagon as Vin kept watch, recalling how those same fingers would travel in tantalizing circles over his flesh, igniting fires within him that he thought had burned out after losing Sarah. The unconscious lick of dry lips left them glistening, the hungry gesture reminding him of the feral look that came into Vin's eyes as he trapped Chris beneath him, grinding their hard erections together before Vin urged him to lift his hips and then possessed him fully. He missed the fullness of having Vin rutting inside him, missed the whispered words of want and, dare he say, love, as Vin thrust deeper and harder, taking them both to a place far beyond where he'd ever traveled before... even with Sarah.

He wanted to go back there... with Vin.

"About time to move on, Chris."

Chris glanced up at Nathan, seeing compassion in the dark eyes and wondering how much the healer knew about the pain and suffering he felt deep inside.

"Nathan?"

Nathan had started to turn away but he looked back and then sank down next to Chris. He waited in silence, and Chris realized that he would wait forever if need be, being one of the few people who truly understood his taciturn nature. He fought an inner battle with himself, and lost, unable to break through the barriers of his own making to ask for the advice he so desperately needed.

"How's Mrs. Johnson... and Richmond? How they holding up?"

Chris looked away from the disappointment that glinted in the dark eyes, but saw only compassion and acceptance when he turned back.

"Mrs. Johnson'll be fine. Just bruised and shocked but she's a strong woman... a good woman. Richmond ain't gonna be recovering from that wound none too soon but the bullet passed through without hitting anything vital. And if he does what I say... and if he keeps that wound clean... then it won't fester." Nathan looked across the circle of wagons to where Richmond sat propped against the wheel of a wagon tended by Charlotte. "Expect I'm the only one grateful his wife came back when she did, 'cause there ain't no one else spare to take care of him."

The silence lengthened but just as Chris was about to stand, Nathan spoke again.

"Never figured on seeing something like this outside of the war. Thought I'd left all that behind me... the sound of explosions, the screams of people in pain and dying." He glanced around at the quiet huddle. "Look at 'em, Chris. They don't truly know what hit 'em... and some of 'em will suffer years for it. Seeing friends and family killed and suffering, seeing their hopes and dreams broken." He looked directly into Chris's eyes. "It can take a lot out of a person. Even a strong man like yourself."

Nathan rose to his feet, not waiting for any response.

"Better go check on Richmond afore we get these wagon's rolling again."

Chris watched him go, knowing the last part had been aimed solely at him and for more than what he'd seen on this wagon train. He pushed himself to his feet and slapped his hat against his thigh to dislodge some of the dust clinging to its surface, and then he pulled it on. Forcing down the tiredness that wanted to grab a hold of his limbs, Chris walked to his horse and got him ready to ride. Within fifteen minutes they were moving again, and Chris still had no idea of when to expect the next attack from Dicky O'Shea.

An hour later he was riding out front when he sensed more than heard a rider coming up beside him. His blood quickened, his heart pumping faster as he caught sight of the familiar profile. Despite the hardship of the past weeks, Vin looked good. The outdoors suited him, heightening his color and bronzing any exposed flesh. Beneath his hat, his hair shone like burnished copper and bronze, the strands kissed by the hot sun and lifted by the warm breeze. However, the ravages of these past weeks became apparent to Chris the moment Vin turned his head. New lines had formed across his forehead from frowns of anger, pain and confusion, his strong jaw ticked as he clenched his teeth harder, and his lips were a thinner line than the soft beckoning pout that Chris could recall all too well. Vin's eyes were still a glorious blue but they didn't sparkle as brightly, and his cheeks seemed more hollow than the last time Chris had really stopped to look at him closely.

This is all my fault.

Chris waited to see what Vin had to say to him, silently wishing he would say something, anything to break the unnatural silence that used to be so warm and comforting in the past.

"Got out of there awful easy."

"Seemed that way."

The silence hung between them again; cold and miserable like a dark cloud blotting out the sun on a warm summer's day. Chris glanced across at Vin again, surreptitiously, and waited for the rain to fall.

"Chris, I'd like to set things straight."

"It's your life. None of my business."

That was hard to admit... but Chris knew Vin's life had ceased to become his business from the moment he started to push him away. He had made the mistake of trying to make Vin see sense over Charlotte Richmond once already, and he wasn't going to make that same mistake again. He, of all people, had no right to judge Vin on the choice he had made especially as he had done all he could to push Vin into the arms of another. The fact that this other turned out to be a married woman who still cared too deeply for her husband was immaterial. The fact that he would have preferred to see Vin find happiness with someone who could love him with equal passion was also immaterial. What he wanted for Vin didn't matter one bit.

Vin's eyes narrowed as he looked at Chris. Fatigue pulled at a face that seemed pale despite the sunshine falling upon them. His eyes were more sunken than Vin recalled; the soft moss green more dull and lifeless than Vin could ever recall. Chris's face held the shadow of a beard, his mouth was set into a grim line and his forehead creased as if he was in a constant pain that he was trying, almost successfully, to hide.

And written across it all was sorrow, disappointment and regret, but Vin chose to interpret all this the wrong way.

"Reckon you think I'm in the wrong here."

Chris sighed deeply, not realizing how much he was revealing in that unguarded moment as he responded almost wistfully, "What I think is you're already gone."

"I'm right here."

"For how long? I need to know I can depend on you, Vin. Let me know when I can."

Vin bowed his head as Chris pulled away, more confused than ever. He was no longer certain where he stood with Chris, was not even sure if Chris knew either. Once more, he longed for the simplicity of his former life before he came to the town... until he recalled how lonely it had been before he found Chris. He couldn't go back to that. He couldn't go back to the cold now that he had basked in the warm glow of love and friendship. He broke off to the right, cantering down the line of wagons but stopping when he drew close to the Richmonds. His eyes automatically sought out Charlotte's as a remedy to the coldness that had been seeping into him since his break up with Chris. He knew the warmth and light she brought to his soul was no more than that given out by a candle compared to the roaring fire of passion he'd found in Chris's arms. But, even that was far preferable to riding back into the cold and dark of his former life.

He stared hard at her, and she gave him a nod of acknowledgment, but something had changed. Her strength of resolve was failing and he felt as if she was pleading with him to take her away now before it was too late for them.

A fresh chill on the breeze brought his head up, distracting him from thoughts of Chris and Charlotte as he realized that they'd have to stop soon for nightfall was only a few hours away. He thought about the land just beyond the next hill where a small spring would provide water for the horses and for cooking. Ten minutes later they arrived at the spot and Vin raised a hand to draw the wagon train to a halt. He stood aside as they circled the wagons to offer maximum protection against attack, and then he rode out maybe half a mile ahead and circled the wagons, making sure there were no surprises lying in wait for them.

As he stepped back into the circle of wagons, having settled his horse for the coming night, Vin caught sight of Charlotte tending to her husband. He paused, his dismay growing sharper as all her attention remained focused on the wounded man seated by her side. He overheard their quiet words.

"Are you staying, Charlotte?"

"Till you're on your feet."

"If it's not too late, can you forgive me?"

"I think we both could use a little forgiveness."

He wanted to deny what he saw and heard but, just as he could no longer deny the love he felt for Chris Larabee, neither could she hide the love she still carried in her heart for Will Richmond. He could hear it in her soft voice, and he could see it in her gentle ministrations.

Vin turned and walked away, needing to be alone as he tried to figure out what he ought to do for both their sakes.

****

Chris stared out along the valley as the setting sun cast out the last feeble rays of daylight. He looked over his shoulder as he heard someone approaching, his heart sinking in disappointment when he realized it was Buck rather than Vin. And then he berated himself for such feelings. What good would it have done if it had been Vin? Why did he keep on torturing himself in this way? Part of him wanted to pack up his saddlebags and ride off, never to look back. He wanted to hole up in some dead-end place, far from anyone who had ever heard his name.

And what? he thought, drown his misery in a bottle of tequila? Pick a fight with someone and let 'em put him out of his misery with a well-placed bullet?

"Got some deep thoughts there, Pard?" Buck sank down beside him. "Dark and ugly by the looks of things. And you know I hate ugly."

Chris looked away, almost hoping Buck would react to the silent treatment and leave him the hell alone. He didn't want company right now despite the phrase that misery loved company.

"Recall warning you that you'd lose that boy if you didn't stop pushing him away."

"And it still ain't none of your business, Buck."

"I'm making it my business, Chris. You know I didn't agree with what you was doing with Vin at first, but I came round 'cause he made you happy." As Chris tried to turn away, Buck caught his arm, dragging him back round to face him but Chris looked, pointedly, at the hand on his arm. "Whatever's eating at you, Chris, you gotta let it go before it kills you." He wheedled softly, shaking Chris's sleeve. "Talk to me, Chris. Forget all that Larabee pride and just talk to me, Stud."

"Stud!" Chris spat out the word in contempt, shaking his arm free from Buck's grasp. "Well, that's one thing I ain't."

"Chris?"

Chris felt shocked for a moment, realizing what he had said in a fit of temper.

"It ain't none of your business, Buck. Leave it alone." He looked away, hoping Buck would take this as an end to their talk but Buck merely shifted until he was sitting right in front of Chris once more.

"There a problem with little Chris?" Chris swallowed hard, suddenly feeling trapped between his responsibility to keep watch and the urge to run away as fast as he could. "Ain't no shame in it, Chris. You forget where I was brought up. Often had men bringing their problems with 'em, looking for a little professional touch to cure 'em--"

"Is that your suggestion? Go find some whore to--? Hell, maybe we should have encouraged Lydia and her Girls to stay in the town after all."

"Or maybe you should stop wallowing in self-pity and shut up and listen for once, Chris." Buck eyed him strangely, making Chris feel uncomfortable. "Have you spoken to Nathan?"

"Hell, no!"

"Hell, why not?"

"Because..." Chris looked around as if he could find a reason in the darkness descending upon them, or in the ground at his feet.

"Because of that damn Larabee pride." Buck blew out a breath. "You know, Nathan soaks up medicinal know-how like a man drinking water in the desert... just can't get enough of it. Hell, even I know of a few tricks to get the little fella up when he ain't so interested."

Chris felt the fight go out of him as he slipped back into despair.

"You make it sound so simple, Buck. But it ain't. Don't think I haven't tried some of those tricks, and a few more besides."

"So you just gonna give up?" He glared at Chris in consternation. "And this thing with Vin? You just went and decided for him that you weren't worth it. That's why you been pushing him away, ain't it?"

"Told you, Buck, it ain't none of your business."

He repeated his earlier words but with far less conviction, no longer feeling any fight left in him and hoping that this, if nothing else, would convince Buck to let things be.

"What were you thinking? That he'd be giving silent thanks to you for setting him free? That he'd just walk away from you and go chasing after the next fancy man or woman that caught his eye?"

"Well, didn't he?"

"If you think that boy's in love with that Richmond woman then you're a bigger fool than I already take you for. He's alone and confused, and grabbing at the first person to show him a little kindness and decency. Just bad luck that she was feeling just as lonely when he came along. Don't mean he loves her or even wants her, and I know she don't love him no matter what she thinks. Both just fooling themselves." Buck slapped his hat against his thigh in disgust. "Damn wagon train full of fools if you ask me."

They sat in silence.

"So you reckon I should see Nathan."

"Yep."

"And what if he can't do anything about... it."

"Don't go burning bridges till you've crossed 'em, Chris."

Chris laughed softly in self-derision, recalling Vin saying the exact same thing to him all those weeks ago when he'd first experienced a problem. Unfortunately, he'd already burned the most important bridge in his life, and now he stood on one side of a gaping chasm while Vin stood on the other... and he doubted there was any rope long enough to reach across that gap even if he had the strength to throw it that far.

****

Last night had been one of the coldest in his memory but not because of the temperature of the air around him. The campfire had been bright, the flames dancing as they consumed the dry kindling but its heat could not penetrate the cold that had seeped into every part of him; body and soul. Across from him he watched as Chris bedded down for a few hours sleep, almost believing that he had seen a thaw in the cold front as the green eyes glinted back at him for one long moment. And then Chris turned his back, pulling the blanket high over his shoulders to conceal most of his face.

Only saw what I wanted to see.

Now he was riding alone out front, trying not to let his mind sway from the task of watching the trail ahead of them but it was hard when all around was so peaceful. He could hear the early morning breeze swishing through the long grass and rustling the leaves on nearby trees. Every once in a while he heard a bird lift its song to the sky; the pure notes answered by a chorus from others of its kind. A wild rabbit crossed their path, freezing in shock for a moment before darting into the long grass opposite. He tried to concentrate on all these inconsequential matters in the hope that it would stop him from being overwhelmed by other thoughts.

A flash of Chris's face across the fire caught at him once more, and he tried to decipher the expression in the fire-lit eyes. It must have just been a trick of the light though. What had been between them was dead... wasn't it?

Only saw what I wanted to see.

He repeated that like a protective spell, wanting to ward off the pain of disappointment if he raised his hopes too high and had them dashed once more. A sound caught at his hearing, and he lifted his head up to see a rock rolling down the high slope towards him. Vin pulled the rein hard, tugging his horse round to meet the anomaly and riding partway up the slope until it became too steep for his mount. He dropped down, pulling out the mare's leg as he started to clamber up the slope. Another sound -- an unnatural hiss -- caught at him and he glanced across and saw the lit fuse traveling towards a bundle of dynamite sticks.

Vin took quick aim and fired at the fuse wire -- and missed. He ducked as bullets thudded into the ground around him, then aimed once more, this time defusing the trap in a spray of dust and in the splicing of the thin wire only a few feet from the bundle of dynamite. He flicked his head round as he caught the streak of an object heading his way. It landed barely ten feet ahead of him up the slope, the shock wave of the explosion catching him and hurling him backwards. It felt as if he was airborne forever, with time seeming to slow down until a split second seemed like an hour... and then he hit the ground hard. He bounced off his shoulder, landing and bouncing backwards again as he tumbled down the steep side of the hill to the valley floor below.

He came to a stop, winded and stunned by the concussive effects of the blast and the awkward landings... and suddenly there were familiar strong arms wrapped around him, holding him tight. The dark-clad body was partially covering him, forming a living shield of flesh and bone as gunfire rained down from above.

"You all right?"

"Most of me."

"All right, come on."

Vin felt the strong arms support him as he climbed unsteadily to his feet, and the sensations flooding through him sent his head spinning and his knees buckling. He pushed out of Chris's arms, walking back aways knowing that Chris followed close behind. Nathan called his name and he snatched the mare's leg from the air as Nathan threw it to him before bending over, hands on knees.

"You sure you're all right?"

Vin flicked a look across into Chris's eyes at the concern in the soft voice, and in that one unguarded moment he saw the genuine love and fear that Chris held for him come shining through. For all this time he had believed that Chris had merely lost interest in him... in them... but now he knew the coldness had been a purpose-made barrier to drive him away. The why of it was of no immediate concern. The fact that it was a mask of indifference rather than indifference itself was what mattered. If Chris had fallen out of love with him, as he had believed, then there was nothing left to fight for. But the crack in that mask had raised a well of hope within him that the love was still there and as strong as ever... and that meant that he could win this man back; that he could have this man in his arms again.

"I feel better than I look."

He kept his eyes averted from Chris, not willing to share this new revelation with him but leaving his cryptic words hanging in the air between them. When he looked across at Charlotte he discovered her watching him from the seat of the wagon; her eyes no longer fired with passion for him as she fought her own battle with her feelings torn between two men.

"All right, let's go find Dicky O'Shea."

They saddled up quickly, determined that it was time to take the fight back to Dicky O'Shea now that his powderman was no longer a threat. Until now they had been forced to stay with the wagons because of the danger that madman posed to the women and children, but now it was worth the risk of leaving them with only their menfolk to protect them.

"Come on."

Chris and the others turned away, heading back along the trail but Vin waited a moment longer, his eyes fixed on Charlotte but she never looked up even though she had to know he might be riding to his death. All her attention was focused on tending to Will Richmond, leaving no remaining trace of doubt in Vin's mind as he pulled on the rein and rode away, swiftly catching up with the dark-clad figure of Chris Larabee.

****

"Where you running, Dicky?!"

Vin was amazed that he could hear the soft voice of Chris Larabee above the sound of gunfire and explosions but the adrenaline high of a battle had a profound affect upon the senses. He aimed and fired at another of O'Shea's men, and had the satisfaction of seeing the man fall dead to the ground.

O'Shea's men were running in all directions, like headless chickens that didn't know they were already dead though some had the good sense to make for their horses, racing away from the carnage in the hope that no one would follow. Vin could see in their eyes that they would keep on riding; that the money O'Shea had promised was not worth the risk of staying to fight for it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Chris's dark form gallop across the gravel bed looking, for all the world, like God's avenging angel.

The fight was ending, the last echoes of explosions fading away as Vin heard Chris taunting O'Shea.

"Thought there were no quitting in Dicky O'Shea."

O'Shea stopped running and turned to face Chris, and Vin spurred his horse forward as O'Shea raised his gun under cover of the small bag of gold that he threw towards Chris... but Chris was faster. The bullet took O'Shea straight through his black heart before he could bring his gun up to take that sly shot at Chris.

It was over... and Vin heard Buck's whoop of pleasure as he whirled Eugene's catapult around his head in a victory salute. He glanced across at Chris and saw real pleasure shining in his eyes for the first time in weeks. Perhaps this had been what they all needed; the chance to throw off the shackles of responsibility to the wagon train that had kept their hands tied when dealing with O'Shea up until now. There was only one thing left to do and that was to send someone to tell those folks to turn around and reclaim their land. Strangely enough, Ezra, was the one to make that offer but, as Vin glanced at the dead bodies lying scattered around he realized it wasn't such a strange offer after all. Chris sent JD along with Ezra and then he and Vin made a full circuit of the area while the others started to deal with the dead and dying, but the rest of O'Shea's men were long gone.

They spent the next few hours digging graves just a little way apart from the tiny plot that held the two settlers who been killed by O'Shea's dynamite trap a few days earlier. None but Nathan stayed as Josiah said words over the fourteen new graves they'd filled; none were interested in observing a blessing for men who were willing to kill innocent women and children for a few dollars.

As night fell, they made a large fire and dropped their weary bodies to the ground around it, letting the salivating aroma of cooking rabbit and the pungency of freshly brewed coffee fill the air around them. They ate in companionable silence and then sat back as Buck regaled them first with a revisit of their battle with O'Shea and then with tales of his exploits of the past and present. He managed to slip in a few sly digs at Josiah, reminding him of the comely widow and her son, Eugene, who had taken such a shine to the ex-preacher, bringing more laughter at Josiah's good-natured expense.

Vin sank back onto his elbows and glanced around, knowing there were only two things that would have made this night perfect: Ezra and JD sharing the fire with them and being here with Chris the way they used to be together. He frowned at that thought, realizing that it almost felt as if they were together again. The strained silence between them had mellowed into something much closer to what he recalled, and the cold indifference in the green eyes had melted away though they were still guarded against revealing more than a soft layer of friendship.

Vin noticed when Chris slipped away into the darkness and he was tempted to follow but Nathan rose first. A new frown creased his face as he waited for their return.

****

Perhaps it was the intoxicating aftermath of the adrenaline high, and of finally seeing retribution dished out to Dicky O'Shea but Chris could not recall spending a finer evening in weeks. As the adrenaline leached from his blood, his limbs became heavier with fatigue and he stopped, for a moment, to consider the men they had killed and buried today. So much blood had been spilled over this small tract of land, and he hoped it was worth it. No. He knew it was worth it. It was a good place... fertile, clean and untouched; a place for people to start over; a place for people like the Richmonds.

But would Charlotte Richmond see it that way too? Would Vin?

He raised his eyes and saw Vin watching him across the blazing fire, seeing the flickering light play across the strong features, accentuating the chiseled jaw and reflecting back from the large eyes. Vin looked more alive tonight, more at peace with himself and Chris wondered whether he had finally made peace with their parting. A large part of him cried out in dismay at that thought and when Vin looked aside, Chris rose to his feet and slipped beyond the circle of light cast out by the fire. As he stepped into the darkness he heard the sound of steps behind him and, for one moment, he both hoped and dreaded it being Vin who followed. He stopped and glanced over his shoulder, seeing the large frame of Nathan Jackson silhouetted by the distant fire.

"Figured you might be ready to talk now."

"About?"

"About what's been hurting you so bad these past weeks."

"Weeks?"

Nathan snorted a soft laugh. "Maybe that should be months... maybe even years."

"It ain't your bus--"

"Yes, it is. 'Cause I'm your friend and maybe I know a thing or two about what you might need to stop all that hurting"

Chris sank to the ground, grateful he'd still been wearing his duster as it seemed so cold away from the heat of the fire despite it being a warm night. Nathan seemed comfortable enough without his coat so Chris wondered whether it was only him feeling the cold. He wondered if the fine shivers racing through him had anything to do with the air around him or if they were just a reaction to the knowledge that he was almost felt ready to talk.

But where to start?

Nathan made it easy for him.

"Back on the plantation, I saw many a man and woman fall into despair seeing loved ones snatched away and sold off on a whim. They'd start to rebuild their lives with others only to see it happen again. Sometimes they didn't even get the chance to say goodbye. They'd come back to the shack at the end of a hard day in the fields... and their loved ones would be gone."

"Happen to you?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry to hear that."

"I know you are... but that ain't why I'm telling you this, Chris." Nathan blew out a breath and settled more comfortably, and Chris could only just make out his features in the starlight. "Still got wounds that won't be healed real soon... but they ain't been torn open again and again like yours. I ain't had the past kicking me in the teeth every time I get settled some place."

Chris laughed softly.

"Yeah.. sure feels like every time I think I've put the past behind me, it just creeps right up behind me and bites me in the ass."

"Got to stop running from the past, Chris."

"Ain't running from it--"

"No. Maybe not... but you ain't facing it down neither. Just turning your back and hoping it'll be gone when ya look over your shoulder. Ain't gonna happen. You got to turn round and face it afore it cripples you."

"Maybe it already has."

He said the words softly, almost as a whisper but he knew Nathan had heard them. He felt the large, caring hands grab one of his; felt a small pouch pressed into his palm.

"A few pinches of this morning and night should help you some."

"What is it?"

"Just a mix of herbs and some other good things I learned about from an Old woman back on the plantation in Alabama. It ain't a cure-all, but it'll make you sleep better, and that should make you feel better... in more ways than one."

Chris stared hard into a face he could barely make out but he could read nothing in Nathan's expression to say he knew what ailed him. However, Chris couldn't rule out that Buck had been talking with Nathan about his business but, for once, he didn't really mind so much. Nathan stood up and walked away, leaving Chris alone with his fingers still wrapped around the small pouch. He opened it and took a large pinch of the contents, grimacing at the bitter taste of the herbs on his tongue.

****

"I ain't going to Brazil."

Vin looked deep into her eyes, knowing he was doing the right thing by her.

"Vin, you don't have to do this. I'm ready to go. I... I swear."

"I've changed my mind about us, Charlotte. I'm sor..." She placed her fingers over his lips, hoping to stop the flow of words. "...ry. It's best this way."

"No."

Vin turned away, feeling all kinds of a fool but he knew, in his heart, that she loved her husband more than she would ever love him. And he knew Richmond loved her with equal passion. Perhaps it was almost losing Charlotte that had shocked the man out of his downward spiral of grief, making him realize that he couldn't just abandon the living to live with the ghosts of the past. Vin knew he would have honored his promise to take Charlotte with him had Will Richmond proved there was no future happiness for her. He would not have even considered leaving her behind if he didn't truly believe that she belonged here with Will Richmond--even though he knew he didn't love her, and that she did not love him.

He knew she wouldn't understand -- not at first -- but he hoped that, some day, she'd realize that he was doing this for both of them... but for her most of all. Just like him, she deserved to be happy, deserved to be loved, and he had a strong feeling that Will Richmond would give her that love in full measure now.

Maybe he'd ride back this way in a few years time but, some how, he knew they'd be a family again by then, perhaps even with new young'uns.

Vin turned away from her and walked to his horse, and to the solemn man in black who waited for him. The settlers had taught him that something good was always worth fighting for.. be it land, friends or a single man. With renewed determination, Vin set his shoulders back as he marched into battle... and he prayed Chris Larabee wouldn't know what hit him till it was all over and the battle won.

****

A day later they were drawing near the outskirts of the town having made much better time without the wagons to slow them down. Chris thought about what Nathan said; about facing his ghosts rather than trying to ignore them, and he reined to a halt.

"Gonna head out to the shack... start on some repairs." He turned slightly towards Vin. "Could use some help if you ain't got other plans."

He saw the indecision in the blue eyes, wondering if he'd hurt Vin too bad to allow him to take another chance on them. A small smile played about his lips as he gave his answer.

"I reckon anything in town that's waited this long can wait a few more days."

"Mary... Boys."

Chris touched the brim of his hat, accepting their respects in return before turning away. The sound of Vin's horse keeping pace with him was a balm to his soul, bringing some small hope that he and Vin might be able to salvage their friendship if nothing else. They came through the small copse of trees on the outer edge of his land and walked slowly across the meadow towards the shack. From this distance it didn't look so bad for, even though his heart had not been in it, he and Vin had repaired most of the exterior damage, filling in the gunshot holes and fixing the broken door. The small barn he'd built after the spring thaw had weathered better and the corral was still solid. They rode straight to the barn and spent the next hour giving the horses a thorough brush down and feed before turning them loose in the corral.

Chris leaned on the corral fence, taking in the sight of his horse trotting around the enclosure; breath snorting, mane tossed back, head and tail held high as he enjoyed the freedom from harness and saddle. Vin slapped his gelding on the rump and sent him cantering to the far end; laughing softly as the more fiery horse bucked and frolicked before settling down to trot around the corral beside Chris's horse.

Chris kept the smile on his face as Vin joined him, but it fell away as he turned to stare at the strong profile.

"Been a fool, Vin."

"Yeah."

"Figured I weren't no use to you, that you could find better than a cripple--"

"You had no right to decide for me, Chris." Vin turned, his expression hard; eyes as cold as chips of blue ice. "I ain't a boy. And you? You ain't my father."

Chris couldn't hold that accusing stare, swallowing hard and looking away to where the horses were prancing and playing.

"No." He barely whispered but he knew Vin would hear nonetheless. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry don't always make it right."

"I know."

"But it's a start."

Chris gave a gentle snort as he heard the slightest teasing in the rough voice, looking up in the hope he wasn't wrong.

"Figure I went and burned the bridge between us."

"Can always build another bridge, and maybe it'll be stronger next time." The silence extended before Vin spoke again. "You throwing me a rope?"

"Trying. Is it reaching?"

"Maybe."

Chris licked suddenly dry lips, knowing a hell of a lot depended upon these few words held between them.

"How much further I got to throw it?"

There was more silence and he frowned when Vin finally spoke, not understanding and feeling disappointed by the evasion.

"Pond'll be warm this time of day. Had the sun on it for the most part. Reckon it's time to wash off some trail dust."

"Okay. I'll wait up--"

"No. Both been riding for days. Both could use a dip in the pond."

"Okay."

Chris followed Vin down to the small pond, wishing he could feel something more than the slightest tingle in his groin as he watched Vin slowly take off layers of dust-covered clothing to reveal the body he had missed holding and touching. Vin's hat came off last, sailing down on top of the dusty pile and Chris watched the play of perfect muscles rippling beneath dusky flesh as Vin stretched, easing the kink from his back and shoulders caused by the long ride. The well-muscled ass brought heartache to Chris as he remembered the feel of strong muscles clamping hard around him but, instead of turning away from the memory, he did as Nathan said and looked it full in the face. He let the memory of sliding between those perfect cheeks fill him; let his whole body revel in the possession of that lean but powerful body, and was rewarded by another faint tingle of pleasure that faded rapidly as he concentrated on it.

"Gonna stand there staring all day, Larabee? Ain't gonna get cleaned up that way."

Chris felt his cheeks fire with embarrassment at being caught staring. He swiftly pulled off his own clothing and slipped beneath the water to hide his embarrassment at having no obvious physical reaction to Vin's highly desirable body.

The initial discomfort wore off when Vin made no moves against him, either physical or through words, and he started to relax, enjoying the feel of the warm water washing away the dust, sweat and dirt from his body even as it eased his mind. He knew part of this good feeling came from the bitter tasting herbs that Nathan had given to him, and though they tasted foul, he had slept better than he had in months -- except for those times when he had lain all night in Vin's arms. Chris floated gently in the light current of water drifting through the pond, feeling the warmth of the late afternoon sun caress his skin, and then he decided it was time to soap up and wash off what dust and dirt remained of the week long journey.

When he caught Vin watching him, he felt another moment of discomfort but he fought back the urge to hide from Vin's scrutiny, lathering up the soap and smoothing the silken bubbles over his skin and hair. He rinsed off and then slid up onto the boulder that made such a good place to lay down and dry, enjoying the fresh breeze that rippled the surface of the water and sent its light, cool fingers across his wet body. He tilted his head and watched through narrowed eyes as Vin soaped up the thick mane of his hair. A small smile curled his lip when Vin ducked under the water to rinse off the soap, watching the lighter hair fan the surface in a copper and bronze haze before he resurfaced. Vin shook his head like a dog, splattering cool droplets over Chris.

"Hey!"

The unrepentant grin sent another faint tingle through Chris's body but, once again, the elusive feeling evaded him when he tried to reach for it. Vin waded to the rock and clambered out, forcing him to shift along a little to make room. He heard a long, soft sigh of pleasure as Vin settled beside him.

It felt good. Just lying here under the late afternoon sun, soaking up the warm rays and the easy companionship that he thought he'd lost through his own stupidity.

"Turn over."

"What?"

"Said, turn over."

Chris reluctantly obeyed, slowly turning onto his stomach, and stiffening when Vin moved to straddle the lower half of his body. He felt a shift of weight and realized Vin was reaching for something among his clothes. He watched in bemusement as Vin pulled out a small bottle and uncorked the stopper, pouring some viscous liquid into his hands. The scent of lavender and lemongrass filled the air as Vin smoothed his hands over Chris's shoulders; the strong fingers digging into the knots and easing the tenseness. He groaned his appreciation as Vin worked out the kinks in his back and neck, stretching languidly beneath the knowing hands that glided over the stiff muscles of his lower back, paralleling his spine before moving back to his neck and shoulders. Each arm was taken in turn, each biceps kneaded gently, each finger worked to the tip before Vin moved, once more to his back.

Chris sighed as the talented hands moved lower, gliding across the base of his ribcage, digging into the soft tissue between rib and hip, and he barely flinched as the strong hands began to knead the firm ass cheeks.

A finger traced a path from tail bone to his balls, skimming across the strong puckered muscle, sending a small tremor through his body. Chris barely noticed, arching slightly as the oil-covered finger dipped into the muscle, rimming the edge before gently pressing inwards.

It felt so good; feeling the strong finger stroking inside him, gliding against the inner surface and...

He gasped softly as a single exquisite sensation flared from deep inside as that teasing finger flicked across the sensitive gland, unaware until now that his shaft was slowly filling. He stopped thinking, letting the sensations rule instead, and letting his body take the lead.

Chris felt the weight of Vin's body settle over him once more, obeyed the insistent fingers that coaxed his hips to rise and groaned as Vin thrust deep inside him in a single stroke. The hardness filled him, stretching muscle almost beyond the level of endurance but Chris welcomed the burn; welcomed the fullness of possession.

The thick shaft stroked deep inside him, sliding against that special place, sending more flares of sensation racing through his body. His hips were pulled back, lifting him to his hands and knees, and he sobbed as fingers wrapped around his slowly hardening shaft. A callused thumb flicked against the sensitive tip sending a dual sensation of pleasure spiraling through him, melting the muscles of his thighs and belly to liquid fire as the first echoes of release overwhelmed him. It sent his body into spasms; his seed spurting from him, coating the strong fingers that had coaxed him so tenderly.

Vin strengthened the thrusts into his ass; powerful thigh muscles driving him deeper and deeper until he froze for a second, a gasp of pure pleasure falling from his lips as Chris felt the heat of Vin's seed filling him.

****

Vin pulled out, one hand rubbing the small of Chris's trembling back in tiny circles of reassurance as he watched his spent seed ooze from the tiny hole to trickle down across the soft sac and pool on the smooth rock beneath them. He closed his eyes, grinning his pleasure at not only having Chris in his arms once more, but also for having been able to bring Chris's body back to full life.

He slid to the side, curling himself around the still panting figure of his lover, pressing every possible inch of flesh against the strong, warm body. He didn't know what would happen next; wasn't certain if what they had was strong enough to survive the ordeals and obstacles that might still lay ahead of them... but Vin gave silent thanks to Nathan for his help, and to the second chance that help had given to them.

And as he wrapped his arms tightly about Chris, he sent a silent prayer to whichever deity or spirit watched over them that it would continue to do so for as long as they both lived.

THE END


End file.
